


let my body do the work

by ahausonfire (thisiswherethefishlives)



Series: Lip Sync for the Hockey Player's Soul [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Art students are weird and awesome, Background Relationships, Basically this is all an excuse to imagine the SMH team dancing all on each other in skimpy outfits, Dex has a lot of little siblings, Getting Together, Lip Syncs, M/M, Pining, UST, Wellie the Dancing Well, and Nursey has a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 08:16:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8571148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisiswherethefishlives/pseuds/ahausonfire
Summary: "Brah, we totally need to do that."
The amount of reverence in Shitty's voice is... well, it's pretty fucking reverent.
Joseph Gordon Levitt raps like a motherfucking demon, demolishing Jimmy Fallon and Stephen Merchant like it's nothing, and for a shining, ethereal moment, Derek can't disagree. Because he's kind of always had a crush on JGL, and he looks so fucking powerful as he demolishes the verse, and maybe Derek wants to capture a little of that feeling for himself. And maybe... you know... maybe he wants Dex to look at him like he's looking at the TV right now, because he looks like he's got a laugh trapped behind his teeth, and his cheeks are pink and perfect, and he's watching the lip sync battle like it's the best thing he's ever seen.
But yeah. It's just a moment before reality crashes down. Because, barring Rans, this is the whitest group of white dudes he's ever met. They just wouldn’t be able to pull it off.
He takes another toke and closes his eyes against the dulcet tones of yet another commercial break, and if he imagines Will Poindexter mouthing the words of Super Bass at him with intent?
Well, nobody needs to know.





	

**Author's Note:**

> … IN A WORLD WHERE [JOSEPH GORDON LEVITT](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R4ajQ-foj2Q) AND [EMMA STONE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bLBSoC_2IY8) APPEARED ON LIP SYNC BATTLE WITH JIMMY FALLON AND [FIFTH HARMONY’S ‘WORK FROM HOME’](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5GL9JoH4Sws) CAME OUT RELATIVELY EARLY ON DURING BITTY’S SOPHOMORE YEAR…
> 
>  
> 
> _(you don't need to have seen any of these videos to read this story, but it might help)_

"Brah, we _totally_ need to do that."

The amount of reverence in Shitty's voice is... well, it's pretty fucking reverent.

Joseph Gordon Levitt raps like a motherfucking demon, demolishing Jimmy Fallon and Stephen Merchant like it's nothing, and for a shining, ethereal moment, Derek can't disagree. Because he's kind of always had a crush on JGL, and he looks so fucking powerful as he demolishes the verse, and maybe Derek wants to capture a little of that feeling for himself. And maybe... you know... _maybe_ he wants Dex to look at him like he's looking at the TV right now, because he looks like he's got a laugh trapped behind his teeth, and his cheeks are pink and perfect, and he's watching the lip sync battle like it's the best thing he's ever seen.

But _yeah_. It's just a moment before reality crashes down. Because, barring Rans, this is the whitest group of white dudes he's ever met. They just wouldn’t be able to pull it off.

He takes another toke and closes his eyes against the dulcet tones of yet another commercial break, and if he imagines Will Poindexter mouthing the words of Super Bass at him with intent?

Well, nobody needs to know.

+

" _Brooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooos_ ," Holster yodels out when he comes through the front door, and it would maybe be a _little_ annoying if Derek was less chill (because really, he didn't _need_ to retain that final line of the sonnet that he's been working on for weeks - it's _fine_ ) or if Holster looked less earnest in the moment... but _luckily_ for both of their sakes, Derek is incredibly chill and Holster is incredibly earnest. Like a puppy. A really handsome, dorky puppy. "Did you guys see how fucking sick Emma Stone was last night? I have found my literal, actual soulmate. She is the light of my fucking life!"

Ransom pouts at that, but Holster is too busy losing his damn mind to pay him any attention, and while Derek definitely _hadn't_ seen the lip sync last night, it's clear that he's about to, because Holster's sweeping everything off the kitchen table - _textbooks and pie and Derek's fucking notebook_ \- and he's setting his laptop down like it's something holy... and, _okay_.

It's pretty damn amazing. She's sick as hell, and she's hilarious, and when he risks a glance at Dex, he's got that same look on his face - a laugh trapped behind his lips - and this might be Derek's favorite thing. Somehow - _SOMEHOW_ \- they're both enjoying the same thing - the same thing that isn't _hockey_ \- and _somehow_...

Derek turns back to the laptop and tries not to focus on how much he wants to kiss the laughter out from behind Dex's lips until there’s nothing holding it back.

+

It becomes an obsession for the whole team. Because _everyone_ loves the Lip Sync Battles with Jimmy Fallon. And it's kind of nice, because it somehow manages to bring the entire team closer.

Instead of singing along to the radio while they're in the locker room, Holster leads impromptu lip syncs.

And instead of Bitty just _dancing_ to Beyonce during kegsters, he owns the floor, mouthing the words as he dips low, and for a solid month they all call him Sasha Fierce. Bitty _loves_ it.

It becomes a thing.

A thing they do on car rides and roadies and in the showers and on the ice... and it's a lot of fucking fun.

For these long moments - the span of a song at a time, sometimes more - they get to put on someone else's skin and someone else's confidence and someone else’s swagger.

And through it all, Dex watches from the sidelines like it's the best thing he's ever seen.

+

"Alright bros, I've brought you here today to suggest the ultimate team-building exercise."

Lardo stands before them in the living room, and it feels like something out of a scary movie - the kind of movie where the collegiate team of hotties is summarily killed off one by one after summoning the ultimate darkness - the lights are out, there are candles everywhere to add to the mood, and Lardo _might_ be wearing an all-black, floor-length cape. But, you know... _art students_.

"For my _Media: Image and Sound_ final this year, I've decided to recreate a classic piece of music video history through the power of lip sync and choreography." She pauses for a moment as Holster gasps, a quiet, hopeful little thing in the dark. "I turn to you - my team - my _bros_ \- to ask for help."

Lardo barely finishes the sentence before the room goes crazy. Ransom's fist bumping endlessly, and Holster's actually crying as he slides off the sofa to fall on his knees at Lardo's feet, and Bitty's already pulling a notepad out of nowhere to start taking notes.

Shitty's clapping it out from where he's sitting in Jack's lap - _sans clothes... because, you know... it's Shitty_ \- and Jack's nodding along like it's the most serious thing in the world.

"Of _course_ , Lards - got your back."

And, you know, with their captain's blessing, the team cheers. Chowder's beaming from ear to ear and _Dex_...

He doesn't have that laugh-behind-the-lips smile on his face when he turns towards Derek, but there's something about the way he looks around the eyes - _soft and trusting and in this_ \- that makes Derek want to kiss him breathless. Dex shrugs, and it's _just_ a shrug... but it also kind of feels like Dex is putting it on Derek's plate... like _he's_ in if Derek's in... and, _look_. They've been better lately. They still bicker and snap, but they've been developing that fierceness into something new. Something _fragile_. Something where Dex would turn to him for approval... and Derek needs to get a hold of himself sooner rather than later, because he's going to do something stupid. Like kiss Dex. Which… _really_ isn’t an option.

So he doesn't do the stupid thing. He just nods instead and offers his fist for the manliest of bumps.

And Dex daps back.

It's kind of great.

+

This is the worst thing ever.

Because Dex is going to _kill_ him. Holy shit.

Because Dex had shrugged at him, and he _trusted_ Derek, and now they’re recreating a Fifth Harmony video. With sexy outfits. And _grinding_. And holy god, the body oil. _There’s gonna be so much body oil_.

The rest of the team filters into the living room while Derek has an internal meltdown, and for the most part their reactions are chill.

Chowder blushes before pulling out his phone, no doubt to text Farmer.

Bitty smirks before bounding up to Lardo, his notes on hand to compare with hers.

Shitty’s sprawled out on the couch with a beer in one hand as his other hand works to massage the apparent knots out of Jack’s shoulders… from the low-pitched murmurs, it’s clear that their captain’s dedication to having Lardo’s back might have wavered after he saw the booty short costume inspiration that’s been taped to the board.

When Ransom and Holster come through the door, their joyful squealing almost distracts Derek from the fact that Dex is bringing up the rear.

But then Dex is walking into the room, and he’s taking in the video that’s been playing on loop for the past two hours (and Derek would know, since he’s been out of class since ten this morning), and he’s absorbing the detailed schematics that are posted all over the room… and _maybe_ he noticed the tub of body oil (but Derek really, _really_ fucking hopes that Dex doesn’t notice it until he’s had a chance to flee), and finally… _finally_ , his eyes fall on Derek.

And this time there’s no softness around the eyes, and there’s no laughter behind his lips. No, this time Dex looks like a deer caught in the headlights, and all Derek can do is shrug.

Because he didn’t plan for this.

Dex kind of… well, he deflates at that, and suddenly he’s looking a lot less warm and a lot more stiff, and he’s turning away from Derek so that he can go talk to Lardo, all hushed words and close leans and stiff gestures, and Derek didn’t _know_ … but it still feels like he fucked up.

Which, _in itself_ , is pretty fucked up.

+

“Alright, boys. Now that y’all’ve gotten a little taste of what this project is shaping up to be, we need to get some very important matters cleared up.” For all that Bitty’s one of the smaller guys on the team, when he gets like this - _puffed up with purpose and sharp with discipline_ \- Derek can totally see the influence of being raised by a football coach. Because Bitty is fierce and he’s taking no prisoners. “If this is going to work, we need to assign and establish the roles that each member of the team will play.

“Based off of dance ability, looks, charisma, and personality, Lardo and I have decided that the following people will be featured soloists: I will be carrying the opening and the hooks, Lardo will be rapping, and Shitty, Ransom, Nursey, and Chowder will round out the group. Congratulations to the featured lip syncers!”

Bitty takes a moment to pause, glaring around the room until everyone politely claps for the soloists… and it’s enough to make Derek’s stomach churn a little, because while most of the group looks genuinely excited, Dex looks like he’s waiting for death, and Holster’s pouting, and _Jack…_ well, Jack honestly looks relieved that they won’t expect him to be front and center.

It’s only after the applause has petered out that Bitty forges on.

“Everyone else will be working on set dressing, costumes, lighting, and background staging. Just because there can only be _six_ featured soloists doesn’t mean this won’t be a team effort. _Everyone_ will get their chance to shine.”

From out of the corner of his eye, Derek can see how Dex sinks further into the sofa at that, every inch of his body screaming his discomfort, but Derek doesn’t get the chance to check in with him before they’re being split into two groups - soloists and crew - and all thoughts of checking in with Dex flicker out because Lardo’s taking his measurements and Bitty’s taking them all through stretches as the video plays on a loop in front of them and apparently there’s going to be reading material and _homework_ and it’s a lot.

It’s _so_ _much_ , but the excitement in the room is electric, and before he knows it, Derek gets swept away. Because this is going to be s’wawesome. And at the very least, Chowder will get a chance to pull out the splits.

+

So, it turns out, as much as this lip sych is shaping up to be a lot, when it comes to the costumes… yeah, the costumes _aren’t_. In fact, they’re _actively_ the opposite of a lot, in that they are actually _intimidatingly_ skimpy.

And, like, he knows that Dex and Holster have been working hard to master the sewing machine that Johnson had left in the basement, and he knows that they’ve been putting in a lot of time… but there’s just not a lot of fabric to work with.

At all.

“Seriously, was there a shortage at the Walmart fabric department or something?”

Dex snorts at that, and it’s nice that they’ve reached the point where they can laugh _with_ each other instead of _at_.

“Sorry to break it to you, Nurse, but I actually _added_ an inch to the shorts. Lardo’s original design was skimpier than half of your underwear collection.”

“Why, Dex,” Derek simpers, batting his eyelashes coquettishly over his shoulder as he mentally files away the fact that Dex has noticed the cut of his briefs. “I didn’t know you _cared_ , and here you are, defending my modesty. Such a gentleman!”

Again, Dex snorts, rolling his eyes before turning back to grab a notebook, and not for the first time, Derek lets himself admire his physique. The way that Dex’s skin flushes pink so easily, from his cheeks down to his neck, spreading further until it disappears under the collar of his shirt…

Shaking his head, Derek turns away from temptation and focuses instead on the costume.

“Dude, as skimpy as it is, this is _really_ well made,” he comments as he runs a palm over the even stitches and sharp seams, fingers tracing over the details as if he could memorize them by touch alone. “I had no idea you could do stuff like this.”

“It’s not a big deal… with a family as big as mine you learn real quick how to handle a needle and thread.” Derek’s face must show his confusion at the statement because Dex huffs at him before explaining further. “Most of my clothes growing up were hand-me-downs, and I used to get teased about it when I was little… so my Ma showed me how to alter my clothes to make them fit, and once I learned how to do it for _me_ , I started helping her with the younger kids too. It’s just something you do, y’know?”

Honestly? Derek _doesn’t_ know. His clothes were always new, and on the rare occasion when something didn’t fit, there were places that would fix it _for_ him. So, he doesn’t know, and it’s not something he can brush off as commonplace, no matter how quick Dex is to shrug it off as nothing.

“Seriously, Dex… you’re _crazy_ good at this. Ransom sent me a snap of his costume, and it didn’t look half as good.”

“Yeah, well, Holster _insisted_ on sewing that one himself - _something about imbuing it with positive energy, or something_ \- and after a certain point my tips started grating on him… so I just let him do his own thing. If Rans says anything to you, let him know that I can smooth out some of the rough edges. I wouldn’t say anything to Holster if he didn’t want me to.”

“You should just tell him yourself, Poindexter. I’m not your damn messenger.”

“Look,” Dex huffs, “I don’t want to make it a thing unless it’s a thing… and I know that if Ransom was gonna tell anyone, it would probably be you… so don’t be a dick about it, okay? Because I know that they’re close - closer than I’ll probably ever be with _anyone_ \- and it’s s’wawesome, but I also know that they aren’t always the best when it comes to constructive criticism… and I don’t want Rans to feel uncomfortable in his costume just because he doesn’t want to hurt Holster’s feelings.”

It only takes a quick glance over his shoulder to see that Dex’s shoulders are hunched, and even though he’s facing away, it’s obvious that he’s waiting for a chirp. He’s _taut_ from it, and it makes Derek wonder if Dex is always like this - waiting to be teased and taken down a peg - and that alone… it knocks at something in Derek’s chest. It makes him want to be soft with Dex. _Tender_ with him, as if that was something that Dex would accept.

It’s tempting to do it - to wrap his arms around Dex until all that stiff acceptance melts out. It’s the same feeling he got as a kid when his parents took him to the top of the Empire State Building. The fierce feeling he got from looking out over the edge at greatness, close enough to touch if it weren’t for the certainty of falling.

It was a rush… the same damn rush he gets from being around Dex... and it’s _dangerous_. It’s _so_ fucking dangerous, because _sometimes_ , when Dex looks at him just right, Derek thinks that he’s falling anyway, so he might as well touch while he still has the chance.

But they don’t _do_ that, and they’re supposed to be working on Lardo’s magnum opus, and Dex’s shoulder’s are still tense, and maybe Derek should be wearing _actual_ clothes when and if he takes the damn leap.

So he moves on and saves it for another day.

“ _Chill_. I won’t make it a thing unless Rans says something.”

The tension doesn’t quite bleed out of Dex’s shoulders, but he shoots Derek a tight smile anyways.

“Thanks, Nurse.”

It’s easy to shrug off the thank you, just like it’s easy to ignore the way that Dex’s eyes go a little darker when Derek tries out some of the dance moves he’ll have to do for the video. It’s not like he’s trying to show off for Dex or anything, he just needs to make sure that the costume holds up to the rigorous choreography. And it’s not like the eye contact he maintains with Dex is anything other than practice, not even when he dips real low… not even when his hands skim over his body… after all, he needs to get used to spotting during the turns... and he needs to get used to performing for an audience...

If he watches the way that Dex’s adam’s apple dips on a swallow, and the way that Dex’s fingers clench on nothing for a moment, and the way that the room feels so much smaller when he’s moving under Dex’s gaze…

Well, it’s just practice.

And the fact that Dex is the one that encouraged him to practice in the first place?

It’s easy to brush that off too.

+

They get halfway through their weekly practice/debriefing when reality hits Derek again. And, look. The lip syncing thing is fun, but this whole project is intense. He’d never admit it to the rest of the team - _because it’s hard to be seen as chill when you’re being a buzzkill_ \- but it’s like all the fun got sucked out of lip syncing once it became mandatory.

He’s got homework, and finals are looming, and there’s still hockey and practice for _that…_ so for them to be sacrificing so much time over this project? He’s stretched a little thin.

That’s the only excuse for how hard it hits when Lardo explains what Bitty had meant about ‘background staging’ when everyone’s roles were first assigned. From the way that Jack’s vibrating out of his skin, and the way that Dex has gone paler than usual, and the way that Holster is fist pumping in joy… yeah, he’s not the only one that’s caught unaware.

“Lardo…” Dex starts, stopping almost immediately before gathering his words. “I _specifically_ told you that I didn’t want to be lip syncing in the video .”

“Oh, you won’t be,” Bitty butts in, and though he’s smiling, it’s the kind of rigid smile that he only gets when it’s his way or the highway. “Lardo and I discussed it, and you _won’t_ be lip syncing at all. We just need y’all to play the strong and silent types in the background.”

Dex sputters at that, but then Lardo’s picking up where Bitty left off.

“ _Everyone_ in this room is going to be in this video, and _everyone_ is going to have to play some role. We just won’t have enough bodies otherwise. I know that this is out of your comfort zone, but literally _all_ I need you to do is be yourself. Just… do me this favor, okay? Stand there, and we’ll do all the work, and it will be _painless_.”

Dex opens his mouth like he’s going to argue, but then Lardo just _looks_ at him… and he deflates.

He deflates like he doesn’t have a choice, and really… up against Lardo’s puppy dog eyes, none of them do. Because this is what they do. They follow her lead, and they bend to her will, and never once has Derek thought twice about the potential there is for Lardo to use her powers for evil.

And logically, he knows that this isn’t evil. It’s just _lip syncing_ and, like, sexy dancing and body oil. It’s not _evil_.

But Dex is deflated, and for the first time, Derek’s not so sure about following Lardo’s lead.

+

So, it turns out that Lardo is fucking _evil_.

She’s the absolute fucking worst, and it becomes immediately clear that Derek isn’t going to survive this, because apparently she is gunning for him, and it’s not okay.

It’s the _furthest_ thing from being okay, and he’s feeling very attacked right now, because after months of preparation and planning and practice, it’s time to shoot their solo scenes, and _Dex_ is the one that Derek has to dance up on.

_Dex_ , with his muscles, and the greasy tank top they’ve put him in, and the tight jeans that he only wears when he’s trying to make a good impression ( _and god fucking damnit, why does Derek know which jeans are Dex’s special occasion jeans, what the fuck_ ), and his fucking hard hat, looking like some kind of goddamn Bob the Builder stripper wet dream all covered in body oil and a healthy dose of glitter. It looks like they put eyeliner on him too, and Derek’s entire being is shook.

He feels _attacked_.

Because this wasn’t in the plans. Granted, they hadn’t made a big thing about who was getting paired up for the video, because at the end of the day the crew should have been pretty much interchangeable. At least, that was the _theory_ , because all they have to do is stand there, but theory doesn’t take into account the major fucking _feelings boner_ that Derek has developed for Dex, and it sure as hell doesn’t take into account the actual _literal_ boner that he’s developed along the way too.

So _now_ , in front of everyone, he’s got to fucking seduce and dance all up on the object of his affections. For a school project. _For someone else’s grade_. Like, Derek’s not getting anything out of this, and his suffering is _too_ real. It’s the realest. The _worst_. Because Dex is wearing a tool belt, and he’s glistening like a porn star, and it’s _too much_.

From behind the camera, Lardo shoots him a wink, and Derek… his brain shorts out, because she might _actually_ be the devil.

The lights dim on set, Lardo calls for quiet, and Derek dies a little inside before shoving the feeling down towards the pit of his stomach where he keeps his dignity and his feelings and his resentment, and he hits his mark.

His lips wrap around every syllable like the words are his own, and he puts every ounce of lust that he’s felt for Dex behind his movements, and he lets them be amplified by the want that fills him to the brim. He loses himself to his desire, lets it be visible and palpable in a way that real life just doesn’t allow, and he owns the fucking stage.

It’s a different vibe from earlier, when they had filmed the group choreography. It’s heavier, because with every step and touch and glance that he throws over his shoulder, Derek allows himself to pretend that this is a thing that is _real_. That life is easy and that Dex is interested and that somehow, _somehow_ , this verse can land him the guy of his literal dreams. He allows himself to imagine that Dex is affected - that he can feel Dex’s eyes trail over his body, that there’s heat in his eyes, that his hands linger a little too long when Derek’s choreography places him right in Dex’s arms, and it’s electric.

It shakes Derek to his core, but then Lardo has them run the scene over and over again… and by the fourth run through he’s numb to it.

Numb enough to convince himself that this is no big deal.

That it’s _chill_.

It’s only later on when he locks his door behind him _(after Lardo called it a wrap - after he shot a smirk at Dex like his heart wasn’t racing in double-time - after throwing sweatpants and a hoodie over his costume - after running away slowly, so as not to draw attention to the fact that he was trying to escape - after the long walk back to the dorms)_ that Derek allows himself to unravel.

And it’s not like it’s something _dramatic_. There are no tears to be shed, and no belongings to be thrown at the walls… just like there are no dramatic declarations or poorly conceived text messages to regret later on. He doesn’t lose himself to his emotions or try to find balance at the bottom of a glass...

_No_ , it’s a quiet unravelling: it’s the shedding of layers onto the floor until he’s free of it all; and it’s his fingers rubbing shampoo into his hair just a little harder than usual, nails scratching against his scalp until it tingles; and it’s the defeated way that his spine curls when he brings himself to completion in the too-small shower stall; and the way that the running water washes away the evidence as he watches; and it’s the realization that maybe this thing with Dex can’t be compartmentalized anymore.

It’s the heavy heart that weighs him down as he dries himself off, and it’s the resolution that settles on his shoulders once he’s clothed in his softest pajamas… because he just _knows_ that he can’t do this again. He can’t flirt this close to the edge anymore.

Because it was his _job_ to seduce Dex. It was the role he was assigned to play, and if there was a flicker of reciprocation… well, that was _Dex’s_ role. He was just playing his part, and at the end of the day, it’s not his fault.

It’s not Dex’s fault at all, because Derek’s always known better than to fall.

But knowing a thing and living it are two different things entirely.

+

He dreams of freckles on pale, pale skin, and thin, pink lips that curve at the corners before parting.

He dreams of sweet, brash laughter, and he wakes up aching.

It’s nothing new.

+

He’s sandwiched between Holster and Chowder when the lights start to dim, and if it weren’t for the way that he had let his vulnerabilities be caught on film, Derek would probably be just as excited for this as they are… but it’s been haunting him ever since he had filmed his solo. The realization that, sooner rather than later, everyone would bear witness to the truth that he’s been hiding like the dirtiest of secrets. The stifling threat of his affections being outed to an unreceptive recipient. The fact that this could be the breaking point between him and Dex… because it’s one thing to have found enough commonalities to bridge their early hostilities… it’s another thing entirely to expect Dex to be okay with Derek having _feelings_ all over him.

Needless to say, it’s been a long eight days from filming ‘til now.

But he’s come to terms with the fact that it’s going to suck. He’s tucked between two of his best friends, Dex is sitting on the floor in front of them - _close enough where Derek could reach out and trace the freckles on the back of his neck if he wanted_ \- Lardo’s vibrating out of her skin with excitement, and it’s going to suck…

But it’s not the end of the world.

It’s not the end of the world. It’s _not_. People starve to death every day, and drinking water isn’t a right for all Americans, and in the grand scheme of things Derek’s little crush can be brushed away like dust under a rug - never quite forgotten, but never quite acknowledged either.

And it’s _not_ the end of the world.

He repeats it like a mantra as the title screen pops up, and he doesn’t stop repeating it when the video starts to play.

Life-altering mortification aside, it’s a slick video. The choreography is tight, the set is _amazing_ (seriously, Derek still can’t believe that Johnson’s uncle just let them have access to the site his construction company had been renovating - it was a near perfect match for the original video, and it adds a whole new level of polish to the end effect), and even though he had known it before, Bitty really _was_ the only choice to play Camila. He’s amazing, from the way that he hits every beat to the way that he dances around Jack, flirting the entire time like he _means_ it… it feels _real_ , and for the first time since filming, Derek can really breathe, because maybe this will be okay.

Because _maybe_ , if Jack and Bitty can pull off that kind of realistic chemistry when for all intents and purposes they hated each other last year... then _maybe_ his feelings for Dex will just be seen as acting.

It’s an excellent out, and Derek’s taking it.

Holster jostles him out of his thoughts when he and Rans come on screen, and again, the electricity between them that was captured on camera… it’s _palpable_. They look so hot together, and Ransom is _owning_ the stage, and he’s owning Holster, and everything - _everything_ \- belongs to him in the moment, and it doesn’t matter that his costume looks rough around the edges (he hadn’t said anything about it after all, and Derek wasn’t about to push) because his charisma overshadows any frayed edges until they look intentional. He looks hot, and he looks like he’s in control, and if Derek was less into Dex, he’d probably fall in love.

The camera transitions smoothly to their group routine, and it’s _tight_. All the months of training and practice and lip syncing into every mirrored surface available has turned them into a fucking super group. Like, without the actual singing talent, but _still_ \- they look like a boy band. They look like a legit genderswapped version of Fifth Harmony… they look like something straight out of the stories that Farmer writes, and it’s amazing. They’re polished and convincing and passionate, and it’s almost enough to set Derek at ease for _his_ solo… but then the scene shifts and it’s suddenly awkward.

It’s _so_ awkward, because it doesn’t look awkward at all.

It looks smooth and natural as he attempts to seduce Dex on camera, all soft touches and bedroom eyes, and it looks good. Hell, _Derek_ looks good. From the way that the denim shirt skims over his muscles - _unbuttoned to the navel for ‘optimum sex’_ \- to the way that the shorts accentuate the strength of his thighs and the juiciness of his hockey butt… he just looks really fucking good, and somewhere, in the depths of Derek’s mind, he knows that he should be proud… but the thing is… if _he_ looks good, Dex looks like the god of sex and glitter.

He hadn’t noticed it when they were filming, but the lighting brings out the warmth in Dex’s eyes, and while they were already pretty, they look incredible in the moments where the camera manages to catch them. They look like molten amber, and his freckles look like little embers set off under the glitter and the grease, and Derek has never seen a more beautiful creature in all his life.

Derek is sprung - _heart, dick, and sou_ l - he is absolutely, positively sprung over his linemate, and it kind of bowls him over… because he had realized it before, but seeing it on camera? Seeing himself going through the motions and living out a pantomime of what he _wants?_ It’s intense.

It’s _really_ intense for some reason, and it rocks him harder and deeper than any of his past realizations, and it kind of puts his brain on meltdown even as everything else speeds up (which is weird, because the phrase is that time flies when you’re having fun - not when you’re having an emotional breakdown - _weird_ ), and at some point, Derek’s going to need to get a copy of this, because it’s hard to focus on the video when it feels like all of his internals are spinning like a top.

And he just… _misses_ the rest of the video.

He misses Chowder’s dancing up on Farmer, and the multiple splits he convinced Lardo to include in the video ( _even though they weren’t in the original_ ). He misses Shitty seducing Wellie the Dancing Well in between wielding a welding torch and pulling off some major hairography with his flow ( _which - really - even in the midst of his breakdown, it still grinds Derek’s gears, because he had begged for the welder scene, only to be shot down… it still hurts… there’s no way that he’s as clumsy as they made him out to be_ ). He even misses Lardo serving major attitude and flair when she tackles the rapping, the rest of the crew booty-dancing behind her.

He misses it all, and before he can even register missing it, everyone’s clapping and cheering and there are hollers for _encours_ , and all Derek can really focus on is the way that Dex’s neck has gone bright red. He isn’t even _looking_ at Derek, and it’s still obvious that he’s _something_ \- mortified or livid or uncomfortable - and Derek doesn’t want to wait to find out what it is.

So he doesn’t.

He disentangles himself from where he’s been sitting and he makes a flimsy excuse and he goes for a walk.

+

“Nursey, wait up!”

So, the thing about getting closer to Dex is that they know each other now. Because friends do that - they know each other’s patterns and habits and regular haunts, and it _shouldn’t_ feel like such a bad thing that Dex has fucking chased after him, and normally it probably _wouldn’t…_ but friends don’t really fall for each other, so all of the shouldn’ts and wouldn’ts aren’t necessarily applicable.

He should have known better than to head towards the rail trail - he should have known that it would be the first place Dex would look for him… but a silly part of him had hoped that Dex just wouldn’t. That he’d leave well enough alone, and that he’d be enough of a bro to let Derek push his overabundance of feelings back down where they belong.

But Dex has never _really_ been Derek’s bro, and they’ve never really known when to stop pushing… so he should have known better.

He should have… and yet…

Shoulders drawn taut and tense, Derek forces himself to come to a complete stop, and he does his best to focus on anything other than the heavy tread of Dex’s boots coming closer.

He can feel his heart, beating like it wants out of his ribcage, and he can feel the warmth of the sun as it streams through the tree canopy above, and he can feel the precise moment when Dex’s fingers brush against his elbow. It’s just a shiver of a touch, but Derek can feel it to his core. Because honestly, he didn’t think Dex would want to be near him, let alone touch him.

“I’m sorry,” Dex says, quick and stilted and earnest, like he’s got to get the words out fast if he’s going to get them out at all, and Derek doesn’t have to see his face to know he’s sincere. “I didn’t realize it would be so obvious… but then we were watching, and it was _really_ \- it was _so fuckin’ obvious_ , and then you were walking out, and I don’t want to fuck up what we’ve got just because I’ve got fuckin’ _feelings_ , or whatever… so, I understand if you’re uncomfortable, but I’m _really_ _sorry_ Nurse, and it won’t be a thing. I swear. I’ll make sure it’s not a thing.”

“ _What_.” It’s not a question, and normally it’s the kind of wordsmithing that would have Dex chirping him for days, but Dex doesn’t say anything, and Derek is _lost_. “What are you talking about? _I’m_ the one that should apologize. Like, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me just because I’m half in love with you, and I’m _sorry_ because I didn’t really see all this happening… the video, and the costume fitting, and the fact that we’re better… I didn’t anticipate any of this.”

Derek’s words trail off after that, and it’s quiet. It’s quiet enough where he can hear the birds in the trees, and the brook he likes to visit bubbling further down the trail, and the deep, wet breath that Dex takes from where he’s standing.

“What the _fuck_.”

The soft touch from earlier is back at Derek’s elbow, but this time it’s not fleeting. This time, warm fingers span the circumference of his bicep, gentle and somehow pleading as Dex _softly_ pulls.

It’s a request more than anything else. In their world, so much of their contact is rough - _from checking to the playful punches they launch at each other to the roughhousing that always makes Chowder look nervous_ \- so much of who they are _together_ has been rough, so this touch right now… Derek takes it for what it is, and he acquiesces, turning around until all he can see is the warmth of Dex’s eyes and the determination that’s written all over the tight screw of his mouth.

“Nurse… are you seriously _apologizing_ for having feelings for me… after I literally… and I mean _literally_ , just did the same thing… to _you_?”

Dex’s speech is slow and stilted, the way he talks down to people when he thinks they’re being spectacularly stupid, and if this was any other time, Derek would probably punch him for it… but as it is? This time, all he can do is nod.

“I thought you were supposed to be the sm-”

Dex’s words are cut off before he can get the rest of his thought out, but Derek can’t even enjoy his victory properly, because all he can focus on is the way that Dex’s lips feel beneath his own. They’re insanely soft and plush as Dex gets with the program and kisses back, and it’s nice.

It’s crazy nice.

In fact, nice is an understatement, because Dex’s lips are parting, and there’s _tongue_ , and Derek isn’t going to survive this. He’s going to _die_.

+

So, it turns out that he survives.

He survives the way that Dex kisses him back in the dappled sunlight like it’s vital, and he survives the look that Dex gives him - _soft and happy, like it means something_ \- when Derek reaches over to hold his hand, fingers twining together like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Derek survives their first real talk, where they get everything out in the open, and they both survive it when they DTR. And it’s kind of amazing, and it’s kind of a blessing, and it’s kind of the greatest thing in the world… because Derek Malik Nurse is made of sterner stuff than he could have ever anticipated, and he survives.

+

Nope, nevermind. He’s a dead man. A goner. Over and out. Sayonara.

His boyfriend is going to kill him. _Is_ killing him. Is actively _murdering_ him with every sway of his hips, which would be bad enough if it weren’t for the fact that he’s wearing Derek’s costume from the lip sync, and Derek is _shook_.

It’s like every dirty fantasy he’s ever had about Dex fixing things combined into a single moment. And Derek can’t look away as Dex gets down and dirty with his work belt slung low on his hips over the tiny, _tiny_ , shorts - pockets peeking out from under the hem, and grease smeared on everything, and it’s a lot. It’s so much, but Dex has got him tied to his chair, and all Derek can do is watch as he sings along to the verse, words tumbling from his lips like so many promises.

And that’s the thing.

Dex _never_ goes back on his promises.

From the first time he swore to have Derek’s back early in the year, to the nights that he spent fuelled on nothing but coffee and Pop-Tarts helping Derek study for his Calc midterm just because he _said_ he’d help, to the moment last night when he had insisted they watch Lardo’s video _together_ \- when Dex had promised that it wouldn’t be as bad as Derek was thinking…

And it wasn’t. It wasn’t _nearly_ as bad the second time around with Dex’s shoulder pressed so close, and Dex’s thigh pressed against Derek’s own, and maybe it’s the fact that Derek has come to _accept_ and _nurture_ and _embrace_ his feelings for Dex into something warm and precious and all-encompassing… but somehow it wasn’t the mortifying romp through memory lane that Derek had assumed it would be.

No, it was actually kind of sweet… because when Derek took a minute to look outside of himself ( _no matter how good he looked during his solo_ ), it was immediately clear that Dex was just as into it - that it was a _mutual_ attraction. Because there on the screen, for Lardo’s film class and all of posterity to witness, Dex made heart-eyes at him at every possible moment. Whether it was during Derek’s solo ( _when Will’s hands could be seen reaching after Derek after he had pirouetted away_ ) or during the group choreography scenes ( _when he could be seen dropping multiple heavy-duty tools in the background whenever Derek dipped low or swung his hips just so_ ), if Dex was on screen, he was looking at Derek, and he looked a mess.

For all that Derek had a reputation for being clumsy, Dex was genuinely giving him a run for his money… all because Dex couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from where Derek was moving.

It was kind of mind blowing at first, and Derek had insisted on rewatching just to be sure, but it was just like Dex had said that day on the rail trail.

It was _obvious_ how much Dex was into him.

So, _yeah_.

Dex doesn’t go back on his promises, and Derek’s not going to survive this - not with Dex grinding down on Derek’s lap as he sings under his breath, promising all kinds of sin...

but _damn_ , what a way to go.


End file.
